![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kathierif_ficTitle: The Trouble With Vulcans
Author: Kathie
Fandom: Star Trek 2009
Pairing/Character: Leonard McCoy/Spock
Rating: FRM
Prompt: You know, I would appreciate it if I didn't see that again.
Kink: claiming
Notes/Warnings: slash, pon farr, Jim Kirk
Word Count: 2045
“Leonard.”
Hot, too hot fingers brushed slowly along Leonard McCoy’s arm, over the bare skin of his wrist and over the back of his hand, pulling him from the light sleep he’d managed to fall into.
“Leonard.”
He knew the timbre of that voice, knew it intimately well, and yet, he had never before heard it tremble like this, as if Spock was holding on to his control with his fingertips, only his stubbornness preventing him from breaking down and…
“Spock,” he managed to say, his body tensing as he instinctively reacted to the urgent tone of Spock’s voice. “What’s wrong?”
He sat up and reached for his tricorder with his free hand. It was too dark in the little cave they’d found shelter in to see more than just the vague outline of Spock, but the small screen of the tricorder would tell Leonard within seconds what was wrong with the Vulcan.
“Leonard,” Spock murmured, his voice pitched low. “Do you recall our…conversation about Pon Farr?”
His voice was almost too quiet for Leonard to understand him, and when he did, he needed a few more seconds to really comprehend what Spock was telling him, and why he was telling it to him right now, in the middle of the night on an alien planet where they were stuck thanks to a storm.
“What?” he snapped, completely forgetting to keep his voice down.
Spock made a sound at the back of his throat that sounded suspiciously like a pained whimper, and belatedly, Leonard remembered that they weren’t alone, but that Jim was sleeping right next to him.
“Sorry,” he whispered and reached for Spock, to convince himself what the tricorder already told him, while listening hard into the darkness. He could hear the even breathing he remembered all too well from his days at the academy, and for a second, the bitter wish to curse Jim Kirk for his ability to sleep everywhere threatened to roll off his tongue.
He bit it back and closed his hand around Spock’s. It was hotter than usual, confirming that the Vulcan was running a fever. “What do you suggest?” he asked. “We can’t leave here, not before that damn storm goes away.”
“I am aware of that, Leonard,” Spock replied softly.
“How bad is it?” Leonard asked. “I mean…can you hold on until we return to the Enterprise?”
“Negative.”
Leonard frowned. “I thought you said it starts somewhat gradually,” he hissed. “Damn it, Spock, how long has this been going on?”
“This morning, I believe.” Spock’s fingers closed around his wrists and squeezed. “Leonard…”
Leonard winced at the pain of the delicate bones of his wrists being ground together, but he didn’t try to pull away. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” he demanded to know, his voice a furious whisper. “Let me guess, you thought you could handle it, you stubborn greenblooded hobgoblin.”
“There was no indicator that my physical condition would deteriorate at this increased level,” Spock replied stiffly. “As I previously pointed out, this is a highly personal matter.”
The grip on Leonard’s wrists tightened again, and Leonard sighed dejectedly. “Well,” he said, “these aren’t normal circumstances and there’s no way to get you to New Vulcan anyways. Not in the specified amount of time. And besides, even if we could get you there, there’s nobody there to take care of your little problem.”
“I assure you that this is not to be taken lightly,” Spock replied. His voice sounded as if he was losing control rapidly. “I also assure you that my interests do not lie on New Vulcan.”
Leonard sighed. “I hear you,” he murmured. It wasn’t as if Spock hadn’t made his intentions clear before. “You’re saying you want to do it here and now.”
“Affirmative.”
“Fine,” Leonard growled. “But you wake up Jim and explain this to him. And tell him no peeking!”
Spock growled. The sound sent shivers down Leonard’s back, and he shivered slightly. He still remained adamant. “I’m not having sex with you with Jim watching,” he firmly said.
“As I told you, this is a highly personal matter for us. We do not talk about it, not even among ourselves.”
“What are you not talking about?” a sleep-filled third voice interrupted their whispered conversation.
Leonard remained stubbornly silent, and Spock finally sighed softly. “Biology.”
“Biology?” Jim sounded more awake now – not surprisingly, Leonard thought darkly. Of course Jim had perked up as soon as he heard that biology was involved.
“Yes, Captain. Vulcan biology,” Spock said. The words came slow, as if he had to force himself to reveal so much about himself. Knowing Spock as well as he did and judging by the pressure on his wrists, it was indeed torture for him.
“It’s a biological imperative, Jim,” he interrupted impatiently. “He has to do it or he will die.”
“Huh,” Jim said and switched on the small lamp. “Is there anything you can do, besides following that…imperative?”
“No,” Spock replied. “Not unless you care to be involved in a fight to the death, Captain.”
“Not really,” Jim murmured with a shudder. “What do you need us to do? Uhura isn’t here, you know.”
“I do not wish the Lieutenant to be involved,” Spock said stiffly.
“I thought you two…” Jim started before stopping himself at the death glare Leonard sent his way. “If not Uhura, who else do you…”
“Me,” Leonard interrupted and lifted his chin stubbornly, daring Jim to comment.
The effect was spoiled when Jim pointed the flashlight directly at him and he had to close his eyes and lift his hand, to protect himself from the light stabbing him in the eyes.
Jim’s mouth fell open, and he needed a moment to regain control over himself to close it.
“You?” he asked, disbelief etched into his voice and into his frown. “Really, Bones…you and Spock? How long has this been going on?”
“Shut up,” Leonard snarled. “Go sit by the wall and no peeking!”
Jim was stunned enough to do what he was told without protesting, and Leonard exhaled shakily.
“I guess this was not what you meant when you said to wait for the right moment, huh?” he muttered and let his fingertips settle against Spock’s hand in a Vulcan gesture of deep affection.
“Negative,” Spock murmured and ran his hands up Leonard’s arms, until he could wrap his hand around the back of his neck and pull their foreheads together. “I am deeply apologetic…”
“Shut up,” Leonard murmured. “Let’s do this, okay?”
He wasn’t prepared for Spock to growl deep in his throat and kiss him almost violently, sharp teeth cutting into his lip and Spock’s tongue pushing deep into his mouth, leaving him helpless to do anything but wrap his arms around Spock’s shoulders and hang on while he allowed the Vulcan to control the kiss.
Spock’s fingertips were burning against Leonard’s face, filling him with fire and desire and the urgent need to touch Spock back, to reach the skin hidden under layers and layers of clothes.
Spock had told him what to expect. It had been an awkward and extremely uncomfortable conversation, and Leonard had wished for a drink more than once during it, but he knew approximately what was expecting him. Still, no explanation could have prepared him for the arousal that filled him at the touch of Spock’s fingertips to his face alone. He forgot about the storm, about the cave, about Jim being close enough that they had barely do more than stretch out to touch him, as well. All he cared about was Spock, running his hands under his shirt and yanking it off, Spock’s hands on the waistband of his pants, pushing them down and leaving them tangled around his boots.
He was barely aware of Spock undressing himself and turning him around, lifting him to his knees, before the Vulcan was pressed to his back, his lips on Leonard’s shoulder, kissing and sucking and biting with a single-mindedness that drove Leonard insane with lust.
And then, Spock was pushing into him, slick and hot and wide, and Leonard had to struggle to breathe through the onslaught of emotions, of sensations and feelings. He had the vague feeling that he would feel this the next morning, that he would curse Spock and all Vulcans – even more than usual – but right now, he couldn’t bring himself to care for the vague pain that soon got swamped by the almost delirious arousal again.
He lost all sense of time. The minutes both flew by and stretched into eternity, until he was dizzy and not even the arousal could mask the burning pain in his body anymore. There was no way he could hold back the soft whimpers of pain anymore, and he was too exhausted to even try.
He didn’t care what Jim was thinking, either. His entire consciousness was focused on Spock’s weight across his back, his slowing thrusts, and finally, after what felt like an eternity, Spock came to a stop.
“Leonard,” he whispered, his voice rough like a sandstorm. It was the first thing he’d said since they’d started this, and Leonard knew that the worst of this was over. Spock would be back to his old self within days.
“Bones, are you okay?” Jim asked from somewhere behind them, and Leonard slowly kneeled up. Spock pulled away from him the exact same moment and handed him his shirt wordlessly.
“’m fine,” he growled. “What time is it?”
“Do you really want to know?” Jim asked back. He didn’t quite look at either of them, and Leonard sighed as he struggled to pull his pants up his aching and tired legs.
“We spent seventeen point five hours in this cave,” Spock informed him. He looked as if nothing had happened, Bones thought, and he was still in his mind, a faint echo of his thoughts, an affective warmth surrounding them.
Of course he looked impeccable, Bones thought while pulling his shirt down. He was a damn, green-blooded Vulcan. They could fuck all night and not look like it, unlike him – if he looked just half as wrecked as he felt, it wasn’t a surprise that Jim wasn’t looking at him.
“I think the storm has died down,” Jim said, his back turned toward them. He was peeking out of the cave, his eyes squinted slightly, his shoulders tense.
“What?” Leonard asked, irritated and tired and worn out and sore, and not in the slightest in the mood to deal with Jim’s attitude right now.
Jim forced a grin that looked a lot more like a grimace. “You could’ve told me that you and Spock were seeing each other.”
Leonard laughed. “What, and take the childish amusement of trying to needle information about Lieutenant Uhura from Spock away from you?” he teased.
Jim glared at him, and Leonard sighed. “I didn’t want things to become weird,” he muttered. “Damn it, Jim.” Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair.
Jim sighed. “Look,” he said, “I’m…it’s gonna take a while to get used to this. I mean, you and Spock? Of all the people, you pick that pointy-eared…” He trailed off and glanced nervously over his shoulder, in Spock’s direction, but if the Vulcan had heard him, he was hiding it well.
Jim sighed again. “So… you and Spock.”
Leonard nodded. “Me and Spock,” he repeated firmly.
“Well,” Jim said and clapped him on the shoulder before stepping out of the cave, “in that case, I only have one thing to say.” He gave Leonard a long look. “Never have sex in sick bay. You know, I really would appreciate if never have to see that again.”
And with these words, he started climbing down the rocky path, not waiting for his two best friends.
Leonard shook his head.
Spock stepped up to him and slid his fingertips possessively against Leonard’s. “Fascinating,” he mused before following Jim.
Leonard shook his head again.
“Unbelievable,” he muttered before following his best friend and his lover. He couldn’t wait to get back to the Enterprise, to get a shower and a nap.
And then, maybe he could convince Spock to continue with their earlier adventures – only this time, on a bed, and without any witnesses.
~end
Author: Kathie
Fandom: Star Trek 2009
Pairing/Character: Leonard McCoy/Spock
Rating: FRM
Prompt: You know, I would appreciate it if I didn't see that again.
Kink: claiming
Notes/Warnings: slash, pon farr, Jim Kirk
Word Count: 2045
“Leonard.”
Hot, too hot fingers brushed slowly along Leonard McCoy’s arm, over the bare skin of his wrist and over the back of his hand, pulling him from the light sleep he’d managed to fall into.
“Leonard.”
He knew the timbre of that voice, knew it intimately well, and yet, he had never before heard it tremble like this, as if Spock was holding on to his control with his fingertips, only his stubbornness preventing him from breaking down and…
“Spock,” he managed to say, his body tensing as he instinctively reacted to the urgent tone of Spock’s voice. “What’s wrong?”
He sat up and reached for his tricorder with his free hand. It was too dark in the little cave they’d found shelter in to see more than just the vague outline of Spock, but the small screen of the tricorder would tell Leonard within seconds what was wrong with the Vulcan.
“Leonard,” Spock murmured, his voice pitched low. “Do you recall our…conversation about Pon Farr?”
His voice was almost too quiet for Leonard to understand him, and when he did, he needed a few more seconds to really comprehend what Spock was telling him, and why he was telling it to him right now, in the middle of the night on an alien planet where they were stuck thanks to a storm.
“What?” he snapped, completely forgetting to keep his voice down.
Spock made a sound at the back of his throat that sounded suspiciously like a pained whimper, and belatedly, Leonard remembered that they weren’t alone, but that Jim was sleeping right next to him.
“Sorry,” he whispered and reached for Spock, to convince himself what the tricorder already told him, while listening hard into the darkness. He could hear the even breathing he remembered all too well from his days at the academy, and for a second, the bitter wish to curse Jim Kirk for his ability to sleep everywhere threatened to roll off his tongue.
He bit it back and closed his hand around Spock’s. It was hotter than usual, confirming that the Vulcan was running a fever. “What do you suggest?” he asked. “We can’t leave here, not before that damn storm goes away.”
“I am aware of that, Leonard,” Spock replied softly.
“How bad is it?” Leonard asked. “I mean…can you hold on until we return to the Enterprise?”
“Negative.”
Leonard frowned. “I thought you said it starts somewhat gradually,” he hissed. “Damn it, Spock, how long has this been going on?”
“This morning, I believe.” Spock’s fingers closed around his wrists and squeezed. “Leonard…”
Leonard winced at the pain of the delicate bones of his wrists being ground together, but he didn’t try to pull away. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” he demanded to know, his voice a furious whisper. “Let me guess, you thought you could handle it, you stubborn greenblooded hobgoblin.”
“There was no indicator that my physical condition would deteriorate at this increased level,” Spock replied stiffly. “As I previously pointed out, this is a highly personal matter.”
The grip on Leonard’s wrists tightened again, and Leonard sighed dejectedly. “Well,” he said, “these aren’t normal circumstances and there’s no way to get you to New Vulcan anyways. Not in the specified amount of time. And besides, even if we could get you there, there’s nobody there to take care of your little problem.”
“I assure you that this is not to be taken lightly,” Spock replied. His voice sounded as if he was losing control rapidly. “I also assure you that my interests do not lie on New Vulcan.”
Leonard sighed. “I hear you,” he murmured. It wasn’t as if Spock hadn’t made his intentions clear before. “You’re saying you want to do it here and now.”
“Affirmative.”
“Fine,” Leonard growled. “But you wake up Jim and explain this to him. And tell him no peeking!”
Spock growled. The sound sent shivers down Leonard’s back, and he shivered slightly. He still remained adamant. “I’m not having sex with you with Jim watching,” he firmly said.
“As I told you, this is a highly personal matter for us. We do not talk about it, not even among ourselves.”
“What are you not talking about?” a sleep-filled third voice interrupted their whispered conversation.
Leonard remained stubbornly silent, and Spock finally sighed softly. “Biology.”
“Biology?” Jim sounded more awake now – not surprisingly, Leonard thought darkly. Of course Jim had perked up as soon as he heard that biology was involved.
“Yes, Captain. Vulcan biology,” Spock said. The words came slow, as if he had to force himself to reveal so much about himself. Knowing Spock as well as he did and judging by the pressure on his wrists, it was indeed torture for him.
“It’s a biological imperative, Jim,” he interrupted impatiently. “He has to do it or he will die.”
“Huh,” Jim said and switched on the small lamp. “Is there anything you can do, besides following that…imperative?”
“No,” Spock replied. “Not unless you care to be involved in a fight to the death, Captain.”
“Not really,” Jim murmured with a shudder. “What do you need us to do? Uhura isn’t here, you know.”
“I do not wish the Lieutenant to be involved,” Spock said stiffly.
“I thought you two…” Jim started before stopping himself at the death glare Leonard sent his way. “If not Uhura, who else do you…”
“Me,” Leonard interrupted and lifted his chin stubbornly, daring Jim to comment.
The effect was spoiled when Jim pointed the flashlight directly at him and he had to close his eyes and lift his hand, to protect himself from the light stabbing him in the eyes.
Jim’s mouth fell open, and he needed a moment to regain control over himself to close it.
“You?” he asked, disbelief etched into his voice and into his frown. “Really, Bones…you and Spock? How long has this been going on?”
“Shut up,” Leonard snarled. “Go sit by the wall and no peeking!”
Jim was stunned enough to do what he was told without protesting, and Leonard exhaled shakily.
“I guess this was not what you meant when you said to wait for the right moment, huh?” he muttered and let his fingertips settle against Spock’s hand in a Vulcan gesture of deep affection.
“Negative,” Spock murmured and ran his hands up Leonard’s arms, until he could wrap his hand around the back of his neck and pull their foreheads together. “I am deeply apologetic…”
“Shut up,” Leonard murmured. “Let’s do this, okay?”
He wasn’t prepared for Spock to growl deep in his throat and kiss him almost violently, sharp teeth cutting into his lip and Spock’s tongue pushing deep into his mouth, leaving him helpless to do anything but wrap his arms around Spock’s shoulders and hang on while he allowed the Vulcan to control the kiss.
Spock’s fingertips were burning against Leonard’s face, filling him with fire and desire and the urgent need to touch Spock back, to reach the skin hidden under layers and layers of clothes.
Spock had told him what to expect. It had been an awkward and extremely uncomfortable conversation, and Leonard had wished for a drink more than once during it, but he knew approximately what was expecting him. Still, no explanation could have prepared him for the arousal that filled him at the touch of Spock’s fingertips to his face alone. He forgot about the storm, about the cave, about Jim being close enough that they had barely do more than stretch out to touch him, as well. All he cared about was Spock, running his hands under his shirt and yanking it off, Spock’s hands on the waistband of his pants, pushing them down and leaving them tangled around his boots.
He was barely aware of Spock undressing himself and turning him around, lifting him to his knees, before the Vulcan was pressed to his back, his lips on Leonard’s shoulder, kissing and sucking and biting with a single-mindedness that drove Leonard insane with lust.
And then, Spock was pushing into him, slick and hot and wide, and Leonard had to struggle to breathe through the onslaught of emotions, of sensations and feelings. He had the vague feeling that he would feel this the next morning, that he would curse Spock and all Vulcans – even more than usual – but right now, he couldn’t bring himself to care for the vague pain that soon got swamped by the almost delirious arousal again.
He lost all sense of time. The minutes both flew by and stretched into eternity, until he was dizzy and not even the arousal could mask the burning pain in his body anymore. There was no way he could hold back the soft whimpers of pain anymore, and he was too exhausted to even try.
He didn’t care what Jim was thinking, either. His entire consciousness was focused on Spock’s weight across his back, his slowing thrusts, and finally, after what felt like an eternity, Spock came to a stop.
“Leonard,” he whispered, his voice rough like a sandstorm. It was the first thing he’d said since they’d started this, and Leonard knew that the worst of this was over. Spock would be back to his old self within days.
“Bones, are you okay?” Jim asked from somewhere behind them, and Leonard slowly kneeled up. Spock pulled away from him the exact same moment and handed him his shirt wordlessly.
“’m fine,” he growled. “What time is it?”
“Do you really want to know?” Jim asked back. He didn’t quite look at either of them, and Leonard sighed as he struggled to pull his pants up his aching and tired legs.
“We spent seventeen point five hours in this cave,” Spock informed him. He looked as if nothing had happened, Bones thought, and he was still in his mind, a faint echo of his thoughts, an affective warmth surrounding them.
Of course he looked impeccable, Bones thought while pulling his shirt down. He was a damn, green-blooded Vulcan. They could fuck all night and not look like it, unlike him – if he looked just half as wrecked as he felt, it wasn’t a surprise that Jim wasn’t looking at him.
“I think the storm has died down,” Jim said, his back turned toward them. He was peeking out of the cave, his eyes squinted slightly, his shoulders tense.
“What?” Leonard asked, irritated and tired and worn out and sore, and not in the slightest in the mood to deal with Jim’s attitude right now.
Jim forced a grin that looked a lot more like a grimace. “You could’ve told me that you and Spock were seeing each other.”
Leonard laughed. “What, and take the childish amusement of trying to needle information about Lieutenant Uhura from Spock away from you?” he teased.
Jim glared at him, and Leonard sighed. “I didn’t want things to become weird,” he muttered. “Damn it, Jim.” Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair.
Jim sighed. “Look,” he said, “I’m…it’s gonna take a while to get used to this. I mean, you and Spock? Of all the people, you pick that pointy-eared…” He trailed off and glanced nervously over his shoulder, in Spock’s direction, but if the Vulcan had heard him, he was hiding it well.
Jim sighed again. “So… you and Spock.”
Leonard nodded. “Me and Spock,” he repeated firmly.
“Well,” Jim said and clapped him on the shoulder before stepping out of the cave, “in that case, I only have one thing to say.” He gave Leonard a long look. “Never have sex in sick bay. You know, I really would appreciate if never have to see that again.”
And with these words, he started climbing down the rocky path, not waiting for his two best friends.
Leonard shook his head.
Spock stepped up to him and slid his fingertips possessively against Leonard’s. “Fascinating,” he mused before following Jim.
Leonard shook his head again.
“Unbelievable,” he muttered before following his best friend and his lover. He couldn’t wait to get back to the Enterprise, to get a shower and a nap.
And then, maybe he could convince Spock to continue with their earlier adventures – only this time, on a bed, and without any witnesses.
~end
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2010-11-13 07:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-11-15 06:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-11-15 03:04 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-11-15 06:25 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-11-16 02:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-11-29 06:32 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-04 04:02 pm (UTC)join me? :))